Hermione's Best Memory
by InoSakuShine
Summary: As Hermione looks down into the bravest Slytherin's casket, she tries her hardest to remember her best memory of Severus Snape.


I made this short little one-shot to honor the memory of the very misunderstood Severus Snape.

He rocks! Enjoy:

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

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**Hermione's Best Memory**

Hermione never thought she's be attending an ex-professor's funeral. There was never many happy memories she had on Severus Snape, but looking down innto his silver-green casket, she forced herself to think of the best one. Knowing what she knew now, she recognized an overlook deed for what it really was; a small act of justice. Closing her eyes, she remembered:

Hermione Granger was just exiting her double potions class with a tremendous weight on her shoulders. She had just recieved two more essays for homework on top of the three she already had from Ancient Runes, and she promised to help Ron and Harry on their History of Magic Homework. Her arms were weighed down with books, quills, and a three and a half foot paper she had slaved away on for her next class. Needless to say, she was stressed beyond measure.

But she would deal, she decided, it had been worse. She thought. In reality she was a ticking timebomb, and the tiniest thing could set her off the moment. She _really_ didn't need what was about to happrn next.

A hard shoulder knocked into hers. Hermione was sent staggering backwards and everything she was holding crashed to the ground and scattered.

"_Malfoy_!" She spat at the pale blonde boy with distaste, but her eyes weren't on him. They were on her precious school books that lay strewn over the area. She clenched her fist as she watched Draco Malfoy's foot step on her three and a half foot long homework paper with horror. The foot jerked back and tore the paper in two.

"Malfoy you _stupid_, disgusting little-_Argh_!" Forgetting all about wands and magic, Hermione stepped foward. A slapping sound echoed through the now emptying halls and Malfoy's friends, Crabbe and Goyle, jaws dropped open.

Fury flooded the sleek blonde boy's face as he rubbed his cheek gingerly. It was an angry red.

"Watch yourself, you _filthy little mudblood_!" As if it was a reflex, unwanted tears burned at the corner of the girl's eyes. She reluctantly found herself wishing Harry and Ron were here. Draco smirked, knowing his words had stung.

"That's right, you _stupid little mudblood_-"

"Mr. Malfoy!" Suddenly, an angry, no, _livid _voice behind Hermione made them both jump wit both fear and surprise.

"P-Professor Snape! _She_-"

"I never want to hear that word from you in my presence again! _Do-not-say-that-word_!" They stared at the man fearfully and uncertainly. His long, greasy hair framed his face, contorted in anger and drained of color. Malfoy looked desperatly to Crabbe and Goyle for some explanation of his teacher's sudden disfavor, but recieved none.

"Yes, Professor," he said instead, forcefully, and hurried past leaving Hermione to stand over the mess he created.

"_Reparo,_" Snape hissed and her torn essay mended itself and her books and schoolwork returned to her hands.

"T-Thank you," she murmured, still a little shocked.

"I suppose," he said smoothly and cruelly, "A disadvantage to having your nose in a book all day long, is that you don't see what's in front of you. Welcome to the real world, Miss Granger." Hermione scowled and hastened to Arithmacy before she was late. Before she reached the end of the hall, that cold, deep voice stopped her.

"One more thing, Miss Granger. Detention, for distracting Mr. Malfoy from his studies." Before she could even protest there was a sweeping robes Snape departed.

On an evening where the studious girl could have easily been tackling her mountains of homework, Hermione was on her way to the dark dungeon of Snape's Office. She sighed and knocked politely on the door, and shortly after a cold voice said, "Enter." MIss Granger entered the office but didn't shut the door behind her.

"Ah, Miss Granger. you can start by cleaning the book case behind you. _No magic_." Some bookcase. There were no books on it's shelves, just jars of gross, creepy, pickled floaty things. It took all she had not to shriek with horror as she removed the jars from their places.

"Professor, can I ask you something?" the girl asked tenatively with her back still turned to him. She stopped cleaning and waited for a response. After a moment or two, Snape answered.

"The reason is, Miss Granger, is that I believe there are far more names more fitting that would better describe you; such as insufferable _know-it-_all, ignorant, _hopeless_, bothersome, supercilious and arrogant. The term Mr. Malfoy used was too vague and... _innapropriate_." He placed a delicate stress on the last word, then smirked. He took pleasure seeing the blank look on Hermione's face.

"Oh, _oh!_ No Professor, I wasn't going to ask why you stuck up for me, I was just going to ask why you didn't give Malfoy detention!" Snape's smirk slid of his face and a look of pure loathing was etched into his face.

"Exactly what I would expect from a friend of Potter." Hermione continued her cleaning with indifference. Inwardly, she grinned triumphantly. In fact her question was exactly as Snape thought, but he didn't have to know that.

END OF FLASHBACK

Hermione thought with tears burning in her eyes. _It must have been horrible to have been so misunderstood. _She took one last look at the man that was once so hated and now so revered, but would never know. Looking at pale, soft face, he still looked annoyed. _And sad_, she added as an afterthought. Then again, if he knew they were all there hovering over his dead body when he was alive, he would have been pissed. 

Three Days Later

"I don't think it's... working..." said Harry, staring intently at the picture frame, in which was a still portrait of Severus Snape.

"Ron, won't you just come in here?" Hermione begged, shooting a dirty look at the door of te headmaster's office.

"No!" said a hoarse voice. "I refuse to go in there!"

"He's only a portrait, why are you so scared?" said Harry, still focusing on the frame.

"I don't care. I don't want to! I don't care if you need support, Hermione! What about me and my support?"

"I don't think it was done right. Why isn't he moving?" Harry said, frustrated.

"Calm down, Harry. It can take up to forty-eight hours for a portrait to become fully functional after painted. The longest it ever took for a portrait to move was sixty-two hours, and that was Dedalous over there," Hemrione explained, motioning to a portrait of another Headmaster.

"That's right!" The portrait said.

"And I heard it took Dumbledore a day and a half," she continued, eyes flickering to Dumbledore's portrait, which was dozing peacefully.

"Quite the little insufferable know-it-all _smart alec _as usual, Miss Granger," said a deep voice with much distaste. Startled, their eyes jerked to the portrait of the bravest man the ever knew.


End file.
